Jade Fire Gold(19)

From my eavesdropping around the campfire, I know we’re less than a week from the capital. In a few days, I’ll find out what the premier wants from me. No one has said anything about Ama. I decide she must be safe and undetected, and that gives me some comfort.

We ride hard into the night. Soon, the regular jostle of the carriage lulls me to sleep. This time, I dream of the sea, though I’ve never even seen it before. In my dream, the water is alive, turquoise waves moving to a secret dance choreographed by twinkling sunlight. Something with a long tail, scaled like a fish, swims in the depths. Red eyes with bright yellow centers. A voice, guttural and violent.

I am waiting for you, it says. I am waiting . . .

I bolt awake to shouting from outside the carriage. We jerk to a stop and Lieutenant Bao is up at once.

“Stay here. Keep this locked.” He disappears outside.

My fingers fumble but I manage to latch the door. It’s a lousy defense, but it’s better than nothing. The yelling escalates, and I hear the clang of metal right outside.

Something slams into the side of the carriage. A blade sprouts from the window and I drop to the floor. Blood drips from the sword—it isn’t mine. I curse under my breath. I’ve no way out of this wooden box. It might as well be a hearse.

The horses neigh and the carriage rocks, throwing me against the side. I hear screams and the thump of bodies against the door. Before I can think of what to do, the carriage explodes. Planks of splintered wood burst up and crash back down, smashing onto my back as I use my arms to shield my head.

Someone yanks me out of the rubble.

“Are you all right?” yells Lieutenant Bao.

“I think so.”

Chaos breathes around me. The scent of earth and smoke taints the air. There’s barely any light. But as fire bursts from the hands of the priests, my eyes find blood-streaked, yellow-and-crimson armored bodies strewn on the ground, expressions of surprise frozen on their faces.

Swords in hand, five figures in black circle the priests, taking turns to attack. The priests wield their flames expertly, but the figures in black defend themselves. It’s not only a battle of weapons, but of magic. Rocks fly through the air, shooting toward their orange-robed targets. Soil lifts from the ground, snuffing out the priests’ fire.

I stagger back as wind gusts from one of the black-robed figures. “Who are they?”

“Tiensai.” Bao splices a rock with his blade before it can hit me. “Run! Get somewhere safe!”

Without another word, he dashes off into the melee.

For a moment, I’m too shocked to move. A Tiensai springs to my side, his bloodied blade gleaming.

“Life stealer,” he snarls, raising his sword.

I scream and scramble to my feet. But it’s too late. He slashes, dragging his blade down my leg. Flesh on my calf rips. Blood spurts out, soaking my robes. I drop to the ground, the smell of wet earth in my nostrils.

“Life stealer!” he bellows again.

I don’t know why he’s calling me that or what those words even mean. But it’s clear he wants to kill me.

My hands claw, dirt lodging in my fingernails. Hair sticks to the sweat on my face, obscuring my sight. Crawl, damn you. Crawl. The sounds of fighting grow distant. My head feels light. I can’t go on.

The man picks me up like a rag doll.

“Why are you doing this? I’ve done nothing to you,” I say, pummeling him the best I can with my fists.

Our eyes meet for a brief, terrifying second, and I see nothing but hatred in his.

“Because of what you can do,” he says. “Because of what you will do.”

He shakes me so hard my teeth rattle. I kick at him with all my strength and connect with his knee. He drops me, and my head hits something. Black spots fill my vision. I’m dizzy, faint. I hear his footsteps crunching dried leaves and twigs. He’s near.

Nearer.

A flash of orange darts out from nowhere. A priest stands between us, shielding me. The air in front of the Tiensai ripples with energy and a wall of fire erupts. I hear the Tiensai’s screams.

And then, I hear no more.





7


Altan


Curving windswept dunes surround us, scantly punctuated by tufts of dry grass. There is nothing ahead of us but a stretch of barren brown. Nothing behind us but more sand. Squinting in the torrid sunlight, I trace the outline of a stray cloud in an otherwise empty wash of blue above.

A wry smile splits my chafed lips and I wince. The gods have an awful sense of humor. Once again, I am back in a place I have strived to avoid. But it is one I have to conquer to get what I want.

We have been traveling for almost a week on camelback. As our food supplies get low, tempers run high. I take the smallest sip possible out of my waterskin. Instead of quenching my thirst, the warm water makes me yearn for more. Tang Wei makes a weak gesture and I steer my camel closer to her and pass the waterskin over. She must be regretting her choice to come along. She clearly hates every single moment we spend in the soft, shifting sand. But she will never hate it as much as I do.

This is the place that took everything away from me.

Tang Wei empties the waterskin in a gulp and crushes the soft leather in her hand. “We . . . are going to die . . . in this godsforsaken place.”

“Only because you drank everything in both our waterskins,” I mutter, surveying the land around us. “There aren’t going to be any saxaul trees for us to get water from for a while. You could’ve been more prudent.”